


Derek Hale Can't Even; Or The Devil is a Spaz

by EggEmperor



Series: The Life and Times of a Spastic Devil [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Bits and Pieces - Not a Whole Work, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff and Crack, Gen or Pre-Slash, If You Squint - Freeform, M/M, Pre-Slash, Skeletal Plot-Bunny, pre-Sterek - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 17:16:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20085862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EggEmperor/pseuds/EggEmperor
Summary: Derek can't even...He has no words for this...It's like the Earth shifted 360 degrees on its axis, everything has changed and yet nothing has. It makes absolutely no sense and all the sense in the World at the same time.He now thinks he understands how most people probably feel when they find out Werewolves exist...





	Derek Hale Can't Even; Or The Devil is a Spaz

**Chapter 1:**

** _I don't know about Divine, but it's a Comedy Alright!_ **

_\- The Devil isn't Evil,_

_He just cannot Sit Still_

_He doesn't know the meaning of:_

_Sit Back, Relax and Chill._

_His Brain runs a Minute mile,_

_His Mouth is even Faster,_

_So putting him in the Garden was;_

_Just asking for Disaster. _

_  
The Devil isn't Evil_

_He was just having a bad day,_

_A game of a Thousand Questions_

_He just didn't want to play._

_He doesn't filter what he says,_

_He doesn't hold his tongue,_

_And thus it was inevitable,_

_That something Dumb was done._

_  
The Devil isn't Evil_

_He simply was Frustrated _

_He didn't think Before he Spoke,_

_And Verbally Masturbated._

_So when Eve asked him a Question,_

_For the 100th time that Day,_

_His mind just didn't Censor,_

_What he had to say!_

_"It's Called the Tree Knowledge," He huffed,_

_"The Name Explains itself,_

_Maybe if you took a bite,_

_You'd know that for yourself!"_

_  
The Devil isn't Evil_

_Just a Sarcastic Little Shit,_

_His words came back to haunt him,_

_His ass they really Bit!_

_  
The Devil isn't Evil_

_He's just a Giant Spaz,_

_He opened up his Big Ol' mouth,_

_And Sin the World now Has! -_

* * *

`` "An Ode to Stiles" Composed by Scott McCall, Isaac Lahey, Jackson Whittemore and Eric Reyes in Detention - Oct 15-19, 2012

* * *

**_  
Sunday, October 21st, 2012_**

A seemingly normal day, that's how this all started the alpha thinks, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration; autumn leaves crunching under his boots as he approaches his destination.

  
They had just managed to get the whole Kanima mess sorted out, turned the majority of the Argent army against Gerard with the exposure of his unabashed cruelty, hypocrisy and betrayal of the Code and convince Erica and Boyd to stay...

  
Things were finally turning up for the better he had thought, he was rebuilding his Pack, his uncle Peter was back and seemed to have – mostly – kicked the crazy, he had six betas, four of which he turned himself, a banshee, a huntress... and a token human because Scott was a package deal.

> And he admitted, Stiles could be useful on occasion and he wasn't quite as annoying as the alpha first found him, the kid's an acquired taste for damn sure, but Derek was perhaps developing a palate for him or at least a tolerance. He was like a fungus, he grew on you... whether you wanted him to or not.

  
He was contemplating rebuilding his family home as a new Pack house - he had applied and received the permits actually.

  
And then, all Hell broke loose, literally.

  
A coven of Satanist Witches and associated Demon worshiping Cult descended on the town for a week and a half of chaos and fear - the likes of which none want repeated - only for the situation to escalate into the most insane of conclusions... to the point Derek is still not completely convinced that one day he won't wake up and find that the past few months were an aconite induced fever dream.

  
Derek can't even... even now... It's like the Earth shifted 360 degrees on its axis, everything has changed and yet nothing has. It makes absolutely no sense and all the sense in the World at the same time.

  
He now thinks he understands how most people probably feel when they find out Werewolves exist...

  
And now he too knows an astonishing incomprehensible truth:  
  
  
The Devil is a Spaz; an obnoxious, loud, hyperactive, nonsensical hurricane of mischief and sarcasm, fueled by prescription amphetamines and greasy junk food.

  
The Archangel Lucifer, Satan the Accuser, The Prince of Darkness, Father of Lies, Lord of Evil, The Devil Himself...

Mieczyslaw ‘Stiles’ “Fucking” Stilinski.

** _Sunday, August 19th, 2012_ **

* * *

_He's a magnet for the kinds of trouble so ludicrous that it would be funny if it weren't real.  
\- Peter Hale_

* * *

Stiles had been missing for five days now.

  
It was just after noon, but it was black as night in Beacon Hills. The sky boiled ominously with ink black clouds, unnatural lightning in red, magenta and deep purples scythed through the air and ground trembled with the resultant thunder.

  
Derek Hale, alpha of the Hale pack ran through the downtown streets flanked on either side by two of his betas, all five wolves were shifted, showing claws and fangs; it didn't matter anymore, the coven gave up even the pretense of subtlety yesterday, when they torched the police station with magic in broad daylight and spent - along with their cultist supplicants - the better part of the afternoon laying waste to the center of town.

  
No, the people of Beacon Hills - and perhaps many more if people escaped before the roads went out - were now well aware of the existence of the supernatural, though they had been given a cursory explanation of "Werewolves Good, Witches Bad" by the surviving Police Force - the sheriff having been brought into the fold the moment Stiles was confirmed to be missing.

  
They should have brought him in earlier, the alpha bitterly acknowledged.

  
Right now, the pack and their "associates" was spread out trying to mitigate the damage, stop the coven and find Stiles.

  
Scott and the newly turned Danny - a sobbing begging Jackson was something even Derek couldn't say no to - were guarding the Hospital with Boyd's grandmother - who unbeknown to her grandson was an immensely powerful white witch - the octogenarian sorceress couldn't fight the coven directly, but her wards and charms made the hospital an impenetrable fortress in which to shelter the fleeing townsfolk.

  
Peter, the Sheriff and the surviving officers were evacuating the residential areas and directing and escorting them to the sanctuary of the Hospital.

  
Allison, Chris and the Argent Army were acting on the offensive, cutting down the cultists and members of the coven as well as rescuing survivors and covering them as they escaped towards Peter and Noah's contingent.

  
Lydia and Alan Deaton were holed up inside the vet's clinic pouring over books and manuscripts, trying to make heads and tails of the things the pack recovered from the warehouse the Cultists had used as their impromptu hideout.

* * *

As they ran at a superhuman pace along Evans, the wolves were dodging chunks of toppled buildings, downed trees and burned out cars as they made their way towards the courthouse and city hall, their last hope now that police station and its records room had been destroyed.

* * *

**_Sunday, October 21st, 2012_**

  
His reverie is suddenly interrupted by the low, quiet but unmistakable growling sounds of peeved beta werewolf.

  
He's still a several hundred yards away and he can already hear the peace of the preserve being broken by a pair of squabbling betas...

  
Derek can already feel another headache - a non-Stiles induced one no less - coming and he's not even at the house yet.

  
Cresting the ridge brought the growing new skeleton of his home into view, and a brief smile that vanishes when he can see what he already knew just by the voices alone.

  
Isaac and Jackson were back at it again, this time continuing their substitute dick measuring contest by seeing how many 2x4s they could carry to the second floor at once. The pair of them had been at this absurd and juvenile contest of "masculinity" for nearly two months now and it had long gotten old.

* * *

Honestly for a while Derek hadn't a clue about what had gotten into his betas, competition was fine but this was out of hand from the start and more than once it ended with them wolfed out and going at each other; after an apparently particularly vicious fight in the locker rooms - which could have resulted in exposure no less - Scott and Boyd had taken to following the two around making sure they stayed apart.

  
After hearing about that incident Derek had had it. The part of him that was the Alpha Werewolf wanted to beat some sense into the two; but the wolf was quickly stymied into a rare display of shame and horror when the human part reminded it of how Isaac came to be here as a beta in the first place. Disregarding that even, Derek had been - at the suggestions of Lydia, Allison and Stiles - trying to be a better person, a better alpha, less angry, less violent, more brotherly, fatherly, more - he hated the words - loving, affectionate.

  
And it apparently helped, Isaac, Erica and Boyd were more comfortable around him, Jackson was less standoffish, Scott was more receptive and finally allowed the pack bond to form. Perhaps even the bizarre situation with Danny might have been abetted by his more approachable demeanor - then again Derek is pretty convinced that one is just an inexplicable fluke of reality, like how Stiles and Satan are actually the same person.

  
So instead he went to Scott and asked him just what the hell was going on with them.

  
The beta looked like a deer caught in headlights and blushed slightly before admitting that apparently two months ago Isaac and Jackson had the "real" contest, which Isaac won by a margin of a few inches.

  
Jackson's ego couldn't stand such a devastating hit to his masculinity, so he challenged Isaac to various alternative competitions to sooth his pride.

  
After Jackson won several, Isaac, who while by no means egotistical was still a teenage boy and beta werewolf, felt antagonized and challenged Jackson right back; until the situation devolved into its present state, culminating in last night's debacle, a milk chugging contest that saw Erica caught in the crossfire.

  
It was all Boyd and Scott could to hold back the seething, livid and drenched beta from mauling their pack mates.

  
In the end it took a startled Stiles bathing the loft in a small fraction of his power - dropping everyone to their knees in the process - to drain the murderous air from the room.

  
Still angry, Erica stormed out, but not before delivering a parting shot.

  
"This," she growled, waving her hand at the two betas, "Has to fucking stop! This isn't even about who's cock is biggest anymore," she glared narrowing her golden eyes, "It's fucking UST is what it is! Just fuck each other and be done with it! Before you drive us all insane and I make you both _equal_ to me, Lydia and Allison!" she bit out, slamming the door in her exit.

  
"She's right, I don't care if you two screw or if you even swing that way, but enough is enough." Boyd grumbled out, not so much angry, as disappointed, as he made to follow his girlfriend.

* * *

As he walked up the drive the alpha sighed at the memory and joined Lydia and Allison in looking on - both smartly unwilling to get in the way of the two idiots swinging wooden beams around - it was apparent that nothing had changed. In fact, as the two betas hulled the wooden beams twelve and thirteen at a time, the teens were arguing about who would be on top, if hypothetically, they _were_ fucking.

  
This resulted in several raised eyebrows and pursed lips from the resident ladies, Erica accentuating hers with a muttered epitaph, while Boyd huffed a snorted grimace as he was carrying planks; Scott stopped hammering in porch boards in favor of staring up at Derek with his patented confused puppy look. To the alpha's horror, the boy began to ask what the two meant by "topping and bottoming" before Allison shut him up.

  
"Wow, Scotty," a voice seems to pop from nowhere, making most the wolves jump, even Derek admits - privately - that he flinched.

  
"How are you still this innocent? Did you and Allison really ... Or was that just to increase you're wolfy man cred?"

  
They all turn to face new arrival as the Archangel continued to babble on as if he didn't just appear out of thin air a few seconds ago.

  
"I mean dude!" Stiles' face takes a pouting almost hurt look as he gesticulates, one hand over his chest, "I'm you best friend, your bro, I stuck around when you were first wolfed out and very certain Stiles was on the menu and you were eager to try it! You don't have any reason to lie or embellish things with me."

  
At that Scott returns an equally miserable pout towards his friend, the look so similar to that of the angel that Derek files away yet another odd circumstance for later scrutiny. Yet another for the Stiles pile.

  
"So says the Prince of Lies," Lydia snickers at Stiles' performance.

  
Scott brightens at the jab, "First off, I wasn't lying about anything Allison and I did, I mean I didn't say everything, that would be weird and way too much sharing man; second, Lydia's got you there dude, you've had a silver tongue as long as I've known you. It's only in the past year that I've always been certain when you were telling the truth or not."

  
"Lastly, man. I how am I supposed to know anything about...," the beta scrunches his face, "Gay sex, and how...how do you know so much about it buddy?," the wolf finishes head tilted in challenge.

  
Eyes slightly narrowing, the teen regards his friend with a cool look, letting silence reign, as if he were gathering his thoughts for a moment, before his lips quirk up in the ghost of a smile.

  
In an instant Stiles was suddenly leaning against the porch wall smirking down at his friend who sat only a few feet away. Jackson and Isaac, who had just come out of the front door shifted in surprise, while Scott to his credit didn't even flinch - though Derek did hear his heart practically leap into his throat.

  
"Well, Scotty..." teen begins, his voice practically a purr, " I'm as old as the Universe for one thing, so there's not much I don't know if I want to know it, and secondly, you know, in case you forgot...I'm the Devil," his voice drops a few octaves which might be frightening if the pack wasn't long by now used to Stiles theatrics - diabolic and otherwise, "I basically real world Rule 34ed long before Rule 34 ever existed."

  
Another confused puppy look Derek notes.

  
"What's rule 34?", all eyes are on Scott, though Stiles quickly turn upwards as he mutters under his breath.

* * *

"Dad give me strength," Stiles mutters. He feels his phone buzz in his pocket.

* * *

The Alpha watches as his human, no angel, Archangel - that's still taking getting used to, and when did Stiles become "his" ? - exhales what must be a physically painful sigh before mustering up whatever patience he has left to answer his dense friend.

  
"It means Scott, that if there exists a sex act, from vanilla to dark chocolate with habanero, I've probably done it."

  
"Oh, that's what I thought!" the beta remarks brightly.

  
Stiles face is suddenly a stormy mask.

  
"If you understood then why did you make me say it?" he bites out.

  
"Because then I could record it," turning away from his friend and towards the rest of the pack he suddenly yells out, "Alli, Lydia you both owe me fifty bucks!"

  
Derek takes a quick series of side steps away from the girls. An alpha has to stand his ground, but an alpha also should try to stay off of Satan's Shit List, and right now, the look on the brunette’s face is far more Prince of Darkness than Stiles Stilinski and Derek would rather not suffer a series of painful pranks at the hand of a vengeful Archangel.

* * *

  
The Devil is awkward, privately shy, loyal to a fault, stupidly brave, confusingly forgiving, and unbelievably...fragile. For all his boisterous bluster, acerbic wit and endless sarcasm, the Devil just wants to be loved and is terrified of losing it. Again, sense and nonsense; the Devil of lore is not that, but Stiles, Stiles is all of that and more. He's a Parasitic fungus, one that makes you feel warm and fuzzy nearly as much as it makes you itch. He grows on you.

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically a little plot bunny that wouldn't leave me the Hell alone so I could work on CADBAH and Job applications, so I decided to write it out so I could make it go away. 
> 
> Originally when I started writing it, it was planned to 800 to 1800 words of pure fun but in-character crack, based on crazy what if and made up of mostly just disjointed scenes; then fluff, feels and even a little angst came in and a plot of sorts formed. It's by no means fleshed out, it's only just enough - or maybe not quite enough - to connect the scenes and get by. 
> 
> This probably wants to be a giant 90K+ story, but I'm not having it. I have other commitments, mainly maintaining a steady Job and CADBAH, and I don't have the time, energy or wherewithal - or even the desire - to commit to another big story. Maybe I'll flesh it out a bit more later or after I finish CADBAH I might start a chaptered story based on this one. Who knows.
> 
> Also this is a Series with at least one more story (bits and pieces) tagged on to it. For some reason AO3 isn't providing the arrow link to "Next Story" but it does exist, just click the Series link.


End file.
